what child hasn’t taken that deepest of breaths,
whispered the private-most wish in their heart,
and gently blown a precious dandelion into the wind?

we spent many long summer days
lying on our backs in the cool grass
all wrapped in fairy dust,
telling stories, as magical creatures wafted slowly by
against the summer pale blue sky.

a thunderstorm breaks the spell
cold blobs of rain plopping hard on our sunbaked skin
as we ran for shelter.
there is still nothing like the wet-dirt taste of a summer storm in the air.

hot summer nights, chasing fireflies
and watching the night sky for the perfect wishing star
it was easier to be a kid back then.

it is unbearably sad
that i could not give my children a carefree childhood
and even more sad
that their children
will grow up knowing that it will be up to them
to keep their world alive.

_{(c) 2020 BGeiger}